


Let him wear what he wants

by FunWithPuns



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Oxventure (Web Series)
Genre: Corazon wears feminine clothes y’all, Dob is a sweetheart, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Lord Milquetoast is a twat, Panic Attacks, and traumatised, he’s also insecure, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunWithPuns/pseuds/FunWithPuns
Summary: Three times Corazon was caught swearing feminine clothes.
Relationships: Corazon de Ballena | Corazon de Leon &; Dob
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Let him wear what he wants

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy this one was interesting to write. They say write what you know so I decided to do so (to an extent)

The first time he tried on a dress, he was five years old. Percival was a child driven by curiosity, always watching people around him. He noticed how some servants and his mum wore flowey cloth that looked different from the clothes he had to wear. What they wore looked light, and soft, and very comfortable, whilst the trousers he had to wear were itchy and annoying.

He wandered into his parent’s room whilst they were somewhere else, he wasn’t sure where, to grab the toys his dad took away from him, when he noticed something laying on his parent’s bed. It was the clothes.

With some struggle, he grabbed it, and tried to put it on. It clearly was too big for him, it was practically falling off his body, but he liked it. It felt as soft as it looked, and it made him feel like a pretty boy!

Percival smiled to himself, trying to take a few steps towards the mirror, but tripped on some of the cloth that touched the floor, and landed with a thud. After a few seconds of pain, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was fun! Maybe he could have one of these things, but smaller. Falling over wasn’t fun.

“Percival Milquetoast.” He heard his dad say with a booming voice. He looked towards the door to see that his dad clearly was not very happy. Had he done something wrong?

“I wasn’t taking the toys.” Percival tried to explain. Yes, he came in for the toys, but he doesn’t want them now. 

His dad did not reply, but walked over to Percival, and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of clothes. Maybe it was the fact that his dad was gripping him too tightly, or the fact that his dad was angry at him, but he started to cry. He didn't understand.

“Men do not wear a dress Percival,” his dad took him out of the room, unaffected by the crying,”I expected better from you. Do not do that again.” Percival nodded, wiping away his tears. He didn't know it was a bad thing to do.

As a teenager, he made it his mission to piss off his father. Trying to grow his hair out, talking back to him, putting his feet on the table, speaking his opinions when his father’s friends are around, the list could go on.

His clothes however, he does not mess with. He would untuck his shirt, yes, and get his expensive trousers muddy, but walk around the house wearing a skirt? Or gods forbid a dress? That was not happening.

He actually  _ liked _ wearing those. 

He couldn’t buy any of them though, as people would talk, and his father would know. He couldn’t steal any because what if he got caught? So he learned to sew fabrics that he collected from around the house, and from his old clothes. Luckily, with the amount of times his father locked him in his bedroom, he had the time to practice, and soon enough he was able to make some decent skirts. Well skirts that did not fall apart after wearing them two times. 

He hid them away at the back of his closet, out of sight. He knew that at some point, he would have to find a better spot to hide it, otherwise eventually a servant could find it.

He heard his door slam behind him, and waited until he could no longer hear the sound of footsteps, before opening his closet and taking out one of the skirts. He learned to love wearing his shirts and trousers, they were very practical, and could be comfortable to wear, but there was something about.. Wearing, not only skirts and dresses, but anything with flowy material, that was rather freeing.

Getting changed into the skirt, he played with the mismatched fabrics that made up the clothing item. Though it was not the prettiest thing he owned, he certainly liked it more than most of his clothes. Maybe it was because he made it. He heard that people tend to like what they've made themselves, more than something made by someone else.

With a small smile, he walked over to his shelf, and picked out a book on pirate history. He had been meaning to annotate the book, so he may as well start now.

He didn’t know what happened after that, other than he must have made it to his bed and fell asleep. He groaned at the sound of knocking, as he buried his head in his pillows, not wanting to deal with the servant.

The door creaked open,”Sir, your father requires your pres-” The servant fell silent.

“My father what?” Percy prompted, rolling over to face the servant, only to find them staring at him in horror. He frowned, confused. What did he do now? 

It took a few seconds for the cogs in his mind to start moving. He started reading, then sat on his bed because it was more comfortable, but did he get changed before he fell asleep? One glance at his own clothes answered that question. 

His heart rate skyrocketed,”get out,” He managed to say, feeling his throat close up. He had been caught, his father will know, he will know. Oh gods. He couldn’t breathe.

-

His father had not mentioned anything, and Percy dared not mention anything to him. He started to think that the servant had not told his father about the incident, if it weren’t for the fact that one evening, when Percy returned home, he found his father sitting in front of the fireplace.

That itself was not the thing that raised alarm bells, but it looked like something was burning in the fire, other than the logs.

He walked into the room, to have a closer look. 

Was that..

“I must say, I was hoping that the servant was lying,” His father stated. It was clear that he was ashamed of Percy, he could tell, and disgusted. He didn’t even want to look at his child, instead, he looked at the fire,”But alas I found those hidden away.” 

He didn’t know how to respond to that, suck on the spot. He was too shocked to feel anything.

“I could tolerate your other… feminine behaviours, as i knew you only did them to get a reaction out of me. But this.. You wore them in private.”

“It doesn’t harm anyone.” His mouth was moving quicker than his mind, as the shock started to wear off. He burned them. He didn’t just confiscate his clothes, he was burning them to ash. To nothing. All because he wore them? 

His father scoffed,”Doesn’t harm anyone? It harms our reputation,” he finally turned to face Percy, glaring at him,”If i had not paid them a considerable amount, they would have told everyone. They would have said you were not truly a man, that you are a sissy. People would lose respect for us.”

“Well, that only shows how ignorant they are. It’s just a skirt.”

“And skirts are only worn by females. You are my son. You do not wear those things!”

“You can’t fucking tell me what to do-”

“I am your father. I can do what I see as fit,” his father stood up,”It has been clear that I have been too lenient on you. From now on, a servant will keep an eye on you at all times, except when you sleep, shower, dress, so on.”

Percy’s mind was reeling from this information. It was utterly ridiculous. He wanted to scream at his father, about how unfair he was being, how he was already being too strict. He was burning his fucking clothes for crying out loud!

But he said nothing, he couldn’t.

He just watched the last pieces of fabrics disappear.

He hated himself for this. How many years has it been, since he ran away from home? He could do whatever he wanted, be with who he wanted, wear what he wanted. So why couldn’t he wear his dresses outside of his room?

He knew why. Everytime he tried to, he remembered the last time people saw him dress like this. He couldn’t risk that happening again. So it was his secret, nobody had to know.

He spun on the spot, watching the delicate fabric float and twist in the mirror. It never failed to make him smile. The clothes had become comfort items for him over the years. When everything felt like it was falling to shit, insecurities were getting the better of him, when he needed an escape, he would lock himself away, and do the things he wanted to do, without being ridiculed, or worse.

His hand ran over the neckline of the dress. He was glad that he chose a silk dress. It’s very breathable, so at least he wouldn’t sweat buckets in this dress, even if it was black. Plus it’s very smooth to touch and doesn’t irritate his skin, and it fits his shape very well. 

Dare he say it, he looked fucking stunning!

“Hey Corazon, the others were wondering if-” Corazon’s head snapped towards his now opened door, which was where he saw Dob. Apparently, the half orc didn’t think that knocking was important. 

Corazon’s heart started beating faster, and he slammed the door on Dob, before staggering backwards, as far away as he could. Of course this would happen. Why didn’t he lock the door? Why couldn’t his secret stay a secret, for once? His throat started to close up, as his whole body started to shake. Dob saw. He’ll tell the others. They will know. He’ll lose the people he cares most about. Oh gods, they’ll be disgusted, won’t they?

He sat himself on the ground, feeling too light headed to stay standing up. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think properly, all he knew was that he had messed up. Everything was fucked. The stupid dress didn’t even feel nice anymore. It made him feel disgusting. Why did he have to wear this shit?

“-azon? Corazon are you ok,” He heard Dob say, barely, it was hard to hear of the ringing noise. Corazon didn’t even try to respond, just trying to fucking breathe. He just needs to breathe,”Cor?”

It was only a few moments later when he heard the sound of wood snapping and the door opening. He could just feel Dob’s eyes on him, he hated it. He didn’t want him to see him like this, and give him more of a reason to ridicule him.

A few steps, and Dob crouched down in front of the pirate, looking rather worried. Well isn’t that great.

“Corazon, buddy, take some deep breaths, ok?” The half orc reached to put a hand on Corazon’s shoulder, but he pulled away immediately. He tried to take some deep breaths anyway, not to any major success, but at least he didn’t feel like he was being strangled anymore.

“Please don’t talk about this.. To the others.” Corazon mumbled, daring not to look at him.

“About.. The dress or the..”

“Both…”

“Of course.” It felt like some of the weight was lifted off of his chest. Dob has always kept his word, so he meant it, right? 

They sat in silence for some amount of time, as Corazon started to calm down. He couldn’t say he was completely fine, he was still very much on edge, but he could breathe, he could think.

“So,” Dob looked for something to say,”switching up your fashion, hm?”

“I’ve always worn stuff like this.” He admitted, running his finger over the silk. He couldn’t believe he admitted that. Why would he do that?

“Oh? Why don’t you ever wear it,” Dob paused, probably realising maybe not to ask,”well.. I think it suits you!”

Corazon looked at him finally, raising an eyebrow skeptically. He tried to find any sort of sign that he was lying, because he must be. He has to be. 

“..Really?”

“Yeah! You look very pretty in it.” Dob smiled softly, and Corazon couldn’t help but smile as well. 

“Thank you,” he cleared his throat, feeling a little too emotional for his liking,”um, you should probably head back to the others now.”

“Oh! Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”

‘I’m sure. Just, tell the others I won’t join tonight.”

“Ok then. Get some rest.”


End file.
